Promise an Ocean
by Miss Ria
Summary: A baby left outside a hotel room. A locker room full of suspicion. And no one knows who she belongs to, including the new father. WWE, including the McMahon family and a lot of the WWE rosters.
1. Chapter One

_**Disclaimer**_  
WWE belongs to those that own WWE. Original characters are mine. Don't steal, don't sue.

_**Author's Notes**_  
This story is loosely based on an episode of M*A*S*H, where the main characters of the show find a baby sitting outside their tent one night, fathered by someone in the Army. I took that idea, applied it to WWE, and came out with this. The story is a kind of uncomfortable mesh between what's seen on television and what's real, meaning that while the correct people may be married and have children, I'll be using their in-ring names and making up names for their significant others and kids. Based in current time, though I may be changing storylines as I go, just to fit the story. There may be some legal inaccuracies within the story, and I may have to ignore some real laws in order to make this work, but I'll chalk it up to creative licensing.

* * *

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter One**

_She had been stupid. She had made a mistake and she had paid for it. She had spent over a year paying for her mistake, and now she was going to try and right the wrong. There was nothing malicious in what she was doing. The last thing she wanted was to cause someone trouble, cause pain, but there had to be something better out there. Something better than she was._

_It had been a mistake, all right. At the time, it had been fun. It had been daring. She wasn't the type to sleep around. She could count the number of sexual partners she had throughout her life on her two hands, most of them during high school and the first year of college. But then she had settled into a new way of living. She had grown up, she had smartened up. She was an adult, fully conscious of her actions. Well, something had happened from those actions, she thought to herself. Something small with big wondering eyes and a smile that could light up a room. Maybe she was biased, because it was her child, but it wasn't _just_ hers. There was someone else who had a hand in making her._

_God, she had been a fool. Just one night. One night of sex, and not exactly incredible sex at that. They had both been drunk, not altogether surprising since they had met at a bar. He admitted that he wasn't the type to just pick someone up and take her back to his room. But sex it had been, and it was good. Not great, just good. They had enjoyed themselves. They both got off. Never once had there been a question of any sort of birth control. Yeah, she was on the Pill. Yeah, she fucked up once or twice and skipped a pill. But there had been no condom, no discussion about it. They had been too drunk, too caught up in their fun to even think about it. The next morning, the enormity of the situation hit her. What if he had something and she caught it? She knew that she was clean. He didn't, but he hadn't seemed too concerned about it that night._

_Oh, she had caught something all right. Something that grew inside of her for eight months and three weeks. She gave birth just a few days before her scheduled due date. She had never contacted him to let him know. He was a daddy now. Maybe he had been a daddy before, but he was one now, even if he didn't know it. It hadn't been an easy go of it. The novels and the television shows and the movies didn't accurately portray what it was like to have a child, to be a mother, to have someone else depend on you. Someone who was too small and weak to help itself. _

_Who the fuck was she kidding? She was a waitress. She lived on a shit salary and depending on the tips that customers gave her because she wore a low cut shirt to show off her tits, and tight pants to show off her ass. The more you flirt, the bigger the tip. No one really went too far. There had been a few instances of ass slapping and arm grabbing, but usually, the customers were too drunk to do anything, and the bouncer would lazily make his way over and glare at them. She wanted to deal with that while dealing with her growing body? Hell no. She wasn't going to work ten hours shifts, constantly on her swollen feet, trying to hold her breath so she wouldn't have to breathe in cigarette smoke and body odour and that horrible smell of vomit that she had never really noticed before. _

_She could've asked for maternity leave, sure. Her boss was a jerk, but he wasn't that bad. One of the bartenders had a kid, and he got time off every now and then, in order to show up for meetings with the teacher and to see his kid play baseball. One of the waitresses, a married girl who was older than her, had gotten time off when she was pregnant, although she had worked for the first five months of her pregnancy. But she wasn't going to. No, she put in her notice and looked at her meager savings account and shrugged her shoulders. She could do it._

_But she couldn't. The money became tighter, and she was forced to apply for social assistance. Welfare. God, the word sounded horrible, but it helped. She kept up with the rental payments on her apartment. She had electricity. She couldn't afford cable or a real telephone, but a pay and talk cell phone with minutes whenever she could swing it was good enough for her. She had friends who helped her out, until she was into them for too much money. And then the only reason they came around was to see if they could collect. Pregnancy was expensive. All those fucking pre-natal vitamins and birthing classes and buying all the shit that the baby would need. There wasn't much of a baby shower. But every now and then, the food shelter, which she had started to frequent despite the fact that the idea made her sick, every now and then, they would get some baby stuff in, like diapers and formula. She had amassed a nice little stockpile before she had the kid._

_Without any medical plan, she had received a bill from the hospital during her stay. She had been in labour for over twenty four hours. On the twenty-eighth, she finally gave birth. Alone. No friends, no family, no one to hold her hand and brush her hair back from her face and feed her ice chips. Nothing. No one. Her little girl was born and she was healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth. She was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, even if she was kind of ugly, what with her scrunched up red face looking like it had been sunburned and the wrinkled skin that looked like it belonged more to an old person than a newborn. She had never seen a newborn before, but the nurses cooed that she was beautiful, and even if she wasn't the most attractive thing, she was absolutely gorgeous to her mother. _

_If she thought pregnancy was expensive, she had no idea how expensive having a newborn could be. The diapers she had gotten were too big for her six and a half pound baby. The formula she had made her little girl throw up immediately. Another trip to the doctor, to be told to buy different formula. Another bill. Both of those bills were in collections now. She still hadn't made a payment. She couldn't work, not with her little girl, and she couldn't afford any sort of sitter or daycare. There was just her. Suddenly, the welfare cheques weren't enough. She was in danger of getting evicted from her apartment. She had been caught trying to shoplift from a grocery store. The bills were piling up in her mailbox, and she was too afraid to look in there. _

_Her baby was healthy, though. That was good. But her baby deserved a better life than the one that she was giving her. She wanted to do more, but how could she? She couldn't work, she couldn't afford the little girl...so she was doing the only thing she knew to do._

_Maybe it was just luck that they happened to be back in town. She hadn't known who he was before, but she found out after. World Wrestling Entertainment. I slept with a fucking meathead, she berated herself. Even if he was one of those fucking jock meatheads that she had hated in high school and hated in college and hated when they came to the bar, even if he was one of those steroid freaks, he had more money than she did, and he worked and he could provide for a little girl. She just didn't want to be involved anymore. Her situation weighed heavily on her shoulders, but maybe, just maybe, if she handed over the little one to her daddy, she could go back home and get a job and straighten her life out. And eventually, maybe years down the road, when she was back on her feet and had her life in order, maybe then she could welcome her little girl back with open arms._

_None of the fucking romance novels wrote about this, and if they did, there was a happy ending. There was always a happy ending. Maybe this would be her happy ending._

_She didn't want to ask at the front desk of the hotel what room he was in. She had watched as some of the wrestlers, fucking meatheads all of them, had come back from wherever they had been, and watched what floor they had gone to. There was a good number of them staying in that hotel, it seemed. She didn't know any of them, didn't see _him_ anywhere that night, but it didn't matter. Any of them would do. She walked through the lobby with the baby in her cuddle seat, and had smiled at the front desk clerk when she walked past, trying to make it seem like she belonged there. No one said anything. She went up in the elevator and went to one of the floors that a group of the wrestlers had disappeared onto, and stopped outside one of the doors. _

_She tried not to cry. This was her baby girl, her little daughter. And she was leaving her out on someone's door step. So fucking cliché, she told herself. But it wasn't that bad. She wasn't leaving her out in the cold. She wasn't dumping her on the side of the road, or throwing her in the trash. She was just giving her a better life. _

_And so she left her outside the door to a hotel, wrapped up in a blanket that had a stain on it but was better than nothing, a diaper bag that had seen better days beside her, and a note tucked inside. _

_Then she left. She knew that her daddy would find her eventually._

* * *

Mornings on the road had its own ritual for the married couple, just like mornings at home did. In the hotel room, he would wake up first and turn on the coffee maker that she always requested, and then jump in the shower while she woke up. By the time he would come out of the bathroom, fully dressed which was ingrained in him from years of traveling with people other than his wife, she would be sitting in bed, going over paperwork with a cup of coffee in one hand, a well gnawed pen in the other, and CNN playing quietly on the television screen.

"So, what's the emergency today?"

She smiled at him, tilting her face upwards as he bent down to kiss her. "So far? I need a manicure. Other than that, I seem to be good. Dad hasn't called, none of the writers are complaining about continuity, none of the road agents are unhappy. It might be a good day today."

He took the cup from her hand and took a sip, making a face at the sugary taste before handing it back. "The world isn't ending yet? Did it stop turning overnight or something?"

She pursed her lips and chuckled, tapping the papers that were spread out over her lap. "So far as I know, we're good. Hell didn't even freeze."

He snapped his fingers and looked at her with mock regret on his face as he went to make himself a cup of coffee, without all the sugar and cream she had put into hers. "And I brought all the rock salt."

Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley grinned from her position in the bed, shifting some of her papers so that her husband could sit down with her. "You might need it yet. I need to talk to Jericho about extending his angle. I know he doesn't like this whole 'beating up on the legends' bit, but he's just such a good heel. Maybe when we move him in the draft - "

"You're sending Jericho down to Smackdown?"

"You're not supposed to know that," she admonished him gently, sipping her coffee. "I swear, if you start going around, gossiping like an old hen, I'm going to make sure that you lose your title to someone like Dolph Ziggler." She laughed at the look of horror on his face. "Okay, okay. But I was thinking that when we move Jericho over, we have two choices: have him remain heel and fight the Undertaker and continue the whole 'legends' angle, or we have him turn face and feud with Edge for awhile. Either one is appealing. We're just lucky that Chris is one of those guys that can turn character at the drop of a hat, and the fans just eat it up."

He murmured his assent and peered down at one of the papers she was looking at. "Well, you know Jericho. He doesn't complain too much, and I think he likes being a heel." Hunter Helmsley passed the paper back and reached to put his cup of coffee on the night stand. "Wanna talk about something that isn't business?"

Stephanie grinned and dropped the pen in her lap. "Well, the kid is staying with his Grandma for a few more days while we're on the road. Shane's gonna come and take over for me next week so that I can spend some time at home and in the office."

"You started out so well," he complained good naturedly, as she moved to lean against him. "And don't call my son 'the kid'. He has a name."

She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the stomach, laughing at his affected grunt of pain. "He's my son too, you know. If I want to call him 'kid', then I'll call him 'kid'. Shane and I never suffered from any identity crises because Dad called us by nicknames."

"Yeah, but you both turned out pretty damned weird."

She snorted. "Hey, you married the weird."

"I fell in love with the weird. You were the one that wanted to get married." If there was one thing he had forever admired about Stephanie, it was her unpredictability. As he looked down at her, she screwed up her face like she was a child and stuck her tongue out at him, making him chuckle and realize that she was the muse behind the same expression that their son had adopted as of late. "Okay, try again. Non-work related."

"Dad wants us to have dinner over at the house next weekend," she said.

"Nope. Dinner with your parents and your brother always leads to business talk. And then he starts trying to groom me for a backstage position with the company. You know, I kind of feel sorry for Shane's wife. She just sits there with that smile on her face, like she understands everything we say."

Stephanie laughed again. "She does, you doofus. They've been married for seven years. Just because she doesn't start critiquing storylines at the dinner table with us doesn't mean that she doesn't understand. It's just not her thing. I respect that. Besides, who else would I go to the spa with?"

"Your mom?" he ventured.

"Oh, she'd go. But she wouldn't enjoy it the same way that Renée and I do. She'd be too busy sneaking a peek at her cell phone every few minutes. She's good for short trips, but anything longer than a facial and she's ready to bust out of there." Stephanie's smile faltered a bit. "Besides, Renée needs some cheering up. I set up an all day package thing for us next week. Mom already said that she'd babysit."

Hunter winced, rubbing his hand up and down his wife's arm. "Still a no-go, huh?" he asked.

Shrugging her shoulders, Stephanie cuddled closer to him, the papers crinkling on her lap. "Yeah. According to Renée, the doctor said that there's nothing wrong with any of them, but I can see why she'd be getting frustrated. They've been trying for what...five years to have a kid? They've tried damned near everything."

Making a face, he looked towards the television, where the news anchor was barely audible, talking about a suicide bombing in another country. "I really don't want to know about my brother-in-law's sex life."

Pulling herself away from him, she gathered her papers into an untidy pile and pushed the covers off of herself, taking her almost empty coffee mug over to the counter to refill it. "I don't know. I feel kind of bad for them. No wonder Shane wasn't here over Father's Day. Jericho had his kids here, Orton had his wife and kid here, we had Ken up...it was like WWE Day Care backstage. I can't really blame him for not wanting to be around. And speaking of kids, did you hear? Jeff Hardy got his girlfriend pregnant."

His eyes widened. "And you accuse me of being a gossip," he exclaimed.

She smirked as she finished making up her coffee, going over to the closet to dig in her suitcase for a moment. A pair of rolled up jeans landed on the bed, followed by her favourite sweater. Hunter nudged the jeans with his foot, causing them to unroll and lay flat. "That's because you are, sweetheart. Most of my gossip comes from you. No, you know the way Jeff is. I was talking to him and his brother about a new storyline and he just popped out with the news. They're both happy with the idea of being parents. I already sent along a bouquet of flowers with a congratulatory note from us."

Hunter laughed and got up from the bed as she gathered her things out of her bag to take a shower. "Motherhood has definitely mellowed you, Steph. You never used to care like this. I think I like this warm, fuzzy side of you."

"Yeah, well, you can like this warm and fuzzy side of me better after I shower and brush my teeth. I feel like hell. Besides, it'll give you time to go down to the gym before the panic of tonight hits. Got to love a pay per view," she added, rolling her eyes as she straightened up, her toiletry bag in hand. "Bring me back a muffin? There's a Starbucks next door."

"Yes, ma'am," he joked, throwing her a quick salute. She smirked and started for the bathroom, closing the door partly shut behind her. "Anything else while I'm out doing your bidding?"

"Call my mother and make sure Kenny's behaving himself?" she asked, as the water in the shower started.

"Will do." He gathered his duffel bag from the corner and strung it over his shoulder, before opening the bathroom door and watching as his wife undressed, giving her an appreciative whistle. She laughed and waved a hand at him as she pulled back the shower curtain. "Love you."

"Love you," she shot back as she stepped into the shower, closing the curtain behind her. Hunter left the door open like she had, and walked to the other door in the room, opening it to step out into the hallway. He stopped short when he saw what was sitting outside the door, his expression one of surprise as a baby looked up at him from the car seat she was strapped into, kicking a foot into the air and gurgling to itself. He cocked his head to one side, racking his brain to see if he could remember any of the guys backstage that had a kid that fit that description and coming up empty. The round blue eyes that stared back at him looked like they could have belonged to any number of people that he worked with, but this was definitely a baby he was sure he had never seen before.

The baby scrunched up its face suddenly and opened its mouth, as if it were about to let loose with a wail. Without even thinking, Hunter dropped his bag and bent down with a groan, unbuckling the baby from the car seat and gathering it in his arms, before the cry could really get started. His son may have been older than the baby in his arms, but he definitely knew what to do. His hand rubbed in a soothing pattern on the little baby's back, which he guessed to be about six months old or so. The cry turned into a train of hiccupping whimpers as he brought his foot forward and nudged the car seat and the diaper bag into the room with the practice of a parent who had done something similar many times before.

"It's all right," he crooned, the weight on his shoulder getting heavier as the baby started to fall back asleep. He kicked at his bag, making a face when it slammed into a nearby wall. The baby was startled back awake, and he kept up the comforting rubbing on its back as he stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Well, that was quick," his wife called from the bathroom, laughter in her voice.

He pushed the door open and stood there, rocking lightly from side to side as the baby closed its eyes again, settling against him. "Um, we got a delivery?" he asked, making it sound more like a question that a statement.

"From who?" she asked, poking her head out from behind the shower curtain. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she looked at the little dark haired baby in his arms, one little fist wrapped in his tee shirt. "Holy shit," she murmured, shaking her head slowly.

"Not in front of the children," Hunter admonished her.


	2. Chapter Two

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter Two**

Vince McMahon looked over at his daughter as she sat back on the bed, the baby sitting on her lap and leaning against her chest. Stephanie was unaware of anyone watching her as she reached for the plate beside her and plucked off a piece of the overly ripe banana she had ripped up earlier, handing it over to the little one. He watched his daughter watching the baby as the chunk of banana disappeared into the baby's mouth. "Good girl," Stephanie crooned, smiling down at the little one. The baby's mouth opened and the banana started to trail out. Without even thinking about it, Stephanie scooped it back up with her finger, clearing off the baby's chin, and popping it right back into her mouth.

"We have a pay per view tonight," Vince said faintly, as his son-in-law came in from the small patio, closing his cell phone at the same time. "Well?"

"Linda's taking Kenny over to Shane's house, so Renée can look after him. She and Shane should be here in a few hours. Probably by the time we have to be at the Garden, so she said she'll meet us there." Hunter put down his cell phone and waved at the baby that was moving her fists through the air, as if she were cheering him on. "She's kinda cute."

Vince gave him a look. "Yes, she's cute. Babies generally are. But whose is she?"

Using a hand towel she had taken from the bathroom, Stephanie wet the end of it in a glass of water and wiped at the baby's chin as she spoke. "According to the note...we don't know. She's definitely not mine. And Hunter swears up and down that she isn't his. I don't think she was meant to be left outside our door." Stephanie let the baby grab at the towel with both hands, gurgling a long stream of gibberish at it. "We're just lucky that Hunter didn't step on her."

"Thanks," he said drily, before taking a seat at the end on the bed. He reached over and took the towel from the baby's hands, throwing it over his shoulder. Stephanie passed the baby over, watching as he settled it against him, rubbing her back again. She smiled and popped a piece of the banana in her mouth. "Come on, sweetheart, I know you've got it in you," he cooed, grinning like a proud parent when the baby burped. "That's a good girl."

Shaking her head, Stephanie swung her legs around and sat upright. "Give him a baby, and he turns into a big pile of mush. I'm sure the fans would just eat it up," she teased, before getting a look at her father's face. She sighed lightly. "Dad, I don't know what to tell you. We went to bed, there was no baby outside our door. We wake up, and there she is, getting ready to cry. There's a note, but it doesn't say much."

"It doesn't say who the father is."

"Just that he's employed by us. What do you want us to do, go from hotel to hotel, knocking on doors and holding her up like she's a mug shot? According to the note, the father doesn't know that he has a little one. All we know is that her name is Ella, she liked Cheerios and bananas, which kind of formula she gets, and that she's five months old." Stephanie shook her head. "It doesn't even have the mother's name on there. Or the baby's full name. I called you, but I think we should call the police."

Vince closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of the baby gurgling and talking to Hunter in its own language of consonants and vowels that didn't make words. Stephanie was right at home with the baby, feeding it and changing it, chattering away to it in that same soft voice that she had used with Ken when he was the same age. And Hunter had automatically adjusted to the role of acting like a father around the baby, barely able to keep his hands off of it, carting it around on his shoulder. But that didn't change the growing feeling of despair that was gathering in his stomach.

The business had its up and downs, but lately, it seemed more down than up. There was the Chris Benoit incident, which had brought the business back into the mainstream, though not in a good light. People were still talking about it, still discussing it, still blaming his company. There was the list of names published in the magazine, pointing the finger at some of the top guys and some of the lesser known guys for buying steroids and growth hormones. There had been another death of a former employee just a month or so ago. Everything bad about the wrestling industry and World Wrestling Entertainment was being brought to the forefront again, everything being examined by the public's scrutinizing eyes. There were even rumours that he was going to be brought into a court of law again, all because of the damned steroid use.

And now...now, there could be a new media shitstorm descending on World Wrestling Entertainment, because of the cute little girl babbling away happily and trying to grab Hunter's hair with her pudgy little fists. Someone out there fathered a baby. It didn't matter that he didn't know about her. It didn't matter that the note said that the mother, whoever the hell she was, was relinquishing her parenting rights to the father. What mattered was it could potentially turn into another scandal. What if the man was married? What if he had kids of his own?

"Fuck," Vince muttered.

Stephanie's eyebrows shot up until they disappeared underneath her bangs, her eyes wide. It wasn't often that her father swore outside of the ring, but when he did, she knew he meant business. "Dad," she cautioned.

"She can't understand me, Stephanie."

She sighed. "I know what you're thinking. I've been thinking the same thing to. You want to keep this in-house, but I don't see how we can. What do we do, hold a general meeting with the staff and ask them all if they had sex fourteen or fifteen months ago? I can almost guarantee that half of them would raise their hands. You know what this business is like."

Yeah, Vince knew what it was like, better than his daughter did. The eighties and nineties were worse, but it still went on. It didn't matter how in love with their wives and girlfriends they were, it didn't matter how many kids they had, it didn't matter how long they had been with someone. The truth of the matter was that being on the road kept them away from home, and every now and then, some of those upstanding family men would falter and end up in bed with someone else.

The Superstars backstage had their own code of ethics and morals, one that had been around for years. Number one: female employees and male employees that were married didn't fuck around with each other. It wasn't worth it to be ostracized by the entire locker room. They kept their pants on with each other. Oh, if they were both single, there was no problem with a quick trip between the sheets together, so long as it didn't interfere with business.

Number two: what happens on the road, stays on the road. It got a little tricky when Superstars would become friends and would introduce their significant others. Even worse when those significant others became friends. The desire to tell them, to come clean, that their wife or husband had picked up someone from a bar and had them stay over was strong, but ninety nine percent of the time, mouths were kept shut.

There had been a few incidents of mistakes, and those were well-known in the wrestling industry. One in particular, the affair between Matt Hardy, Lita, and Edge had been turned into a storyline, much to the dismay of everyone involved. Call it punishment, call it poetic justice, call it whatever you wanted, those involved would never be the same, and a lesson was definitely learned. The men and women of the company became a hell of a lot more discrete about sleeping around, but it still happened. Hell, Vince had done it from time to time. Hunter had probably done it to Stephanie before they got married. He was positive that his son had gotten some action once or twice on the road. It was just the way the business worked, whether they liked it or not. Whether they wanted to acknowledge it or not.

"Maybe we should wait until Mom and Shane get here to discuss this," Stephanie said, glancing over at the sleeping baby on her husband's shoulder. They had talked about having another child, in a year or so when Ken was older, but she couldn't help but think of the beauty of the image she saw. He looked perfect, all big muscles and strength, cradling such a small, delicate thing against him. She wanted a girl now, though she knew she'd probably want a son in a few weeks.

"Well, if no one steps up to the plate, or knows whether Ella is theirs, we could always offer paternity tests," Hunter offered.

"Because that won't make the media," Vince muttered, shaking his head. "How do you hide twenty or so paternity tests? Put them all under fake names. People will talk. And that's a damned expensive idea, despite the fact that it could work." He paused. "Are we sure that the father is a wrestler?"

Stephanie nodded and handed over the note again to her father. He took it and sighed as he read it for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

_This is my baby girl. Her name is Ella. I call her 'baby girl' and 'Ella' and she answers to both. Her daddy works for your company, World Wrestling Entertainment. I saw him wrestle before on TV. I can't afford to keep my baby. If I do, we'll have to live in shelters and on the street. I'm sorry. Please give her to her daddy. I'm sure he'll love her as much as I do. I'm very sorry to have to do this, but he can give her a better life than I can. He probably won't remember me. I was a one night stand and we were both drunk. Please tell my baby girl that I love her._

Following that was a list, containing what formula made Ella sick and which one she had been fed, what solid foods she was beginning to eat, and how old she was. No name of the father, no mention of where the father and the mother had met, if it had even been in New York City. Absolutely nothing to give them a lead. "What about - " Vince began, getting cut off by his daughter quickly.

"We've already thought about who could be the father, and I can name at least ten men that have blue eyes, even more that have dark hair, and one or two that have both. She doesn't look like anyone in particular," Stephanie said with a shake of her head. "Those eyes could be Jericho's, or Christian's, or Orton's or Cena's. And that's just the beginning. The hair could be Matt Hardy's, Orton again, Cody Rhodes, or Evan Bourne's."

Hunter snickered from the end of the bed. "And when she gets tired, she gets this stoned look on her face that totally looks like Brian Kendrick."

Both McMahon's glared at him, before Stephanie continued. "And who's to say that either of those aren't from the mother? Hell, it could be Jeff Hardy's kid, and he has blond hair and green eyes. There's just no way of telling. Not without us either calling the cops or the father stepping up to the plate and admitting that the baby is his. I mean, we can obviously knock a few guys out of the running. She's definitely Caucasian. I'd say she came from two white parents."

"That doesn't help," Vince admitted.

"I don't know how to help, Dad. I mean, we're taking care of her right now, but I'm going to be going home soon, and I have a son of my own. Who's going to watch her during the show? You know that I'm going to be running around like a chicken with my head cut off, and Hunter has a match tonight. You're going to be busy...I guess we could ask Mom or Shane to do it. But what about when we're off the road? The house shows? What do we do then?" She saw the look that her father was giving her and groaned. "No, Dad. I've got enough on my plate already, what with trying to balance work, and my marriage, and my kid at the same time. I can't add more to it, unless you're ready to ship me off to the funny farm."

"Do you think Shane and Renée would?" Hunter asked, shifting the sleeping baby on his shoulder. One blue eye popped open and then closed, the baby yawning.

"Shane's taking over for me next week, so I can spend some time at home. Renée might, but we'd have to ask her. I doubt it, though. She tries not to be around Kenny much, so I don't think she'd appreciate having an infant shoved on her. Not when she can't have a baby of her own."

"So, what do we do, then?" Vince asked.

No one had an answer.

* * *

It was amazing, the things that a baby could make a fully grown adult do. Stephanie and Linda McMahon were sitting on the couch in a locker room, watching as Hunter and Shane fussed over the baby with the shining eyes who wanted to grab at everything she saw. They cooed and tickled her, trying to get her to play _peek-a-boo_ with them, constantly picking her up and handing her off to each other. "Men," Stephanie mused, a smile on her face. "Think they'll fight over her like that when she needs to be changed?"

"Does anyone know yet?" Linda asked, shifting to look at her daughter, equally amused by the display from her son and her son-in-law.

Stephanie nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Word's gotten out. It didn't help that I carted her to my meeting with Jericho earlier today. Have you ever seen him with a kid? I never thought I'd see the day that Chris Jericho, the king of bling bling, would be blowing raspberries on a little girl's stomach. Of course, he does have two of his own."

Linda couldn't help but laugh at the image the words brought to her mind. "She seems to like all of the attention." She watched as the men discussed something for a moment, before she was settled in Shane's arms, being fed by a bottle. "He'll make a good father one day."

"He makes a hell of an uncle," she said, smiling again. "I haven't heard anything yet about the possible father, but there are a few guilty faces in the hallways today. Some of them married. I don't know, Mom. I don't think Dad is going about this the right way. I mean, I understand not wanting to bring anymore bad publicity to the company, but it really isn't the father's fault. Are you supposed to call every one night stand months later to make sure that there isn't going to be a bastard running around with your face?"

"Stephanie," her mother cautioned. "Your father is getting pretty frustrated with this, isn't he?"

"Well, he's definitely not happy. Can't say I disagree with him on some of the points, though. We really don't need this. Hell, I should be out there right now, making sure everything's running smoothly. I just can't seem to tear myself away from her." She gave her mother a look, and then smiled. "Hunter and I have been talking about having another baby in awhile. Now that Ken's growing up, I forget how good he is with them."

They were interrupted when Hunter roared with laughter over something, the baby looking at him with large, startled eyes before she began to giggle as well. The giggles turned into a tremendous burp that had the women snickering when they saw the looks of appreciation on the men's faces, and then turned into hiccups. Shane paced back and forth, rubbing the baby's back as she began to cry.

"So, no ideas yet?" Linda asked as she stood up, going over to rescue her son from the wailing child.

"Not yet," Stephanie admitted. She stood up as well and made her way over to her husband, his arm slipped around her waist as they watched her mother take the baby from Shane's arms and drape it over her own shoulder.

Grandma was back on duty as she rocked the baby gently, admonishing her son for bouncing her so quickly after she ate. Stephanie smiled to herself, remembering when Hunter had learned that lesson himself with an infant Ken, and then smacked him on the arm. "You should have told him," she hissed.

"I thought it would be funny," Hunter hissed back, a smile firmly planted on his face. Stephanie giggled and leaned against him. "I should get back to the locker room. The show is going to start soon, and I haven't even changed." He shifted towards Linda and the baby and then stepped back, looking chagrined. "Oops."

"I know. It's kind of hard not to fall back into the routine. She's not ours, though," she said, smiling up at him. "Go, get ready. I'll be along in a bit to check on everyone. That is, if I can pull myself away from her long enough."


	3. Chapter Three

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter Three**

The hotel was more than happy to assist when they had been told about the sudden addition to the group of wrestlers staying with them. A crib was brought up to the room, as well as a selection of baby food from a pharmacy nearby, all organic. More diapers had been brought up in a separate order, and a stack of fresh towels, mainly small hand towels that could be used to throw over a shoulder in case of accidents.

After the pay per view, after another two diaper changes and another bottle, after being changed into a freshly laundered sleeper, Ella was laying in her crib. Her legs were splayed out on either side of her, and her hands were in tiny little fists as she turned her head and sighed in her sleep. He smiled and leaned over the crib, running a finger down her soft cheek before straightening himself and going back to the bed. Reaching for his cell phone, he tucked one arm under his head and dialled with the other.

"Hello?" a female voice asked.

Shane McMahon smiled to himself when he heard the exhaustion in her voice. "Has Kenny worn you out yet?"

Renée laughed shortly. "Now I know why they call it the terrible twos. You could have warned me, Shane. I'm an only child, don't forget."

"I'm sorry, babe. Steph wasn't too bad when she was growing up. Kenny must've gotten it from his father." He fell quiet for a moment before looking over to the crib. He knew he shouldn't wake her up, but he couldn't help himself. Standing back up, he made his way to the crib and reached in, picking up the warm little girl, cradling her against his chest as he walked back to the bed. She blinked and yawned in protest as he settled himself back against the pillows, adjusting the sleeping weight on his chest as his wife prattled on about the day she had spent with their nephew.

He looked down at the infant on his chest, her hand fisting itself into his shirt, and smiled lightly, his free hand resting on her back. Once there was a break in the conversation, he chuckled. "So, did you know that I'm sharing my bed with the most gorgeous brunette I've seen?"

"Did Steph have a fight with Hunter?" Renée joked.

He laughed lightly. "Nah, I'm babysitting tonight. Steph and Hunter have Raw to worry about tomorrow night, and Dad's about to blow about this thing. I was the logical choice. Well, Jericho offered to take her for the night, claiming that he missed his own kids at home, but I don't mind."

"Is she sleeping?"

"Yeah. I've got her laying here with me. She's so tiny. Ella. That's her name."

He could hear the smile in his wife's voice when she spoke. "What does she look like?"

"I'll take a picture and send it to you when we're off the phone. But she's the most beautiful little girl I've seen." He settled back against the pillows and rubbed the baby's back as she fell deeper asleep. "She's about five months old, with these really dark curls. It's really thick, too, not like Kenny's was. She has these big blue eyes, kind of like Stephanie's, and these little chipmunk cheeks. Seriously, she looks like she's packing for the winter or something. She's kinda chubby."

Renée laughed. "Babies sometimes are, Shane. Is she fussy?"

"Not at all. She's cried a few times, but nothing serious. Mainly just 'change me' cries. She's had her butt wiped by the WWE Champion and a couple of millionaires. Not a bad way to start out her career here," he joked. "She's a sweetheart. She really took to Hunter, kept reaching for him all night. They've already fallen in love with her. And I think I'm well on the way."

Husband and wife were quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. "Shane, what are you thinking about?" she asked quietly.

He sighed and watched as Ella rose and fell with his chest. "Maybe we should think about adopting," he said, equally quiet. When she didn't say anything, he hurried to continue. "I know that we want to do this the natural way, that we want _our_ child, but it's been five years. Maybe it's just not meant to be. We could always give someone else a chance at a good life. Someone like Ella."

He heard noise in the background on his wife's end of the line, and recognized it as her removing the cork from a bottle of wine. Probably the red that they had opened the night before after dinner. The neck hit the glass, and he could hear the _ting_ of glass on glass. "There are still some things that we haven't tried."

"And what if those don't work?" he asked, closing his eyes. "I know what you're thinking. We've done everything but in vitro, but you've seen the odds. We've done the research. The numbers aren't that good, for everything that we'd have to do. I don't like the idea of you having to go through all those injections again. You've had so many fertility drugs pumped into you that we should be like that family with twelve kids."

"Oh, God. The clown car vagina woman. They just keep tumbling out," his wife said, laughing. She sobered quickly and sighed. "I know, Shane. But I also know that we want to have a child. There's nothing wrong with either of us. I just don't understand. Maybe we should try the artificial insemination again."

He bit back a groan. "Only for you would I jack off in a bathroom, watching really bad porn. There's nothing less manly than that," he joked. Shane frowned when he realized that she wasn't laughing. "We don't have to talk about it tonight, babe. Both Raw and Smackdown are being filmed at the Garden. I'll drive home Tuesday night after the show. That gives us four days together."

"Three. Your sister and I planned a spa trip for Saturday. It's just...I'm here at home, with our nephew, and you're there, with a baby in your room, and neither of them is ours," she whispered. He closed his eyes when he recognized the sound of her crying. "I love Steph and Hunter, and I love Ken. And I can't help but hate them at the same time, for having what we can't. It's not fair."

He remained quiet as she drank her wine and sniffled on the other end of the line. It was a conversation that they had many times before and would probably continue to have them, unless they were lucky enough to have a child. Shane could understand his wife's frustration, because he felt the same way at times. It had gotten to the point where his parents had stopped joking about when he was going to give them another grandchild, and his sister had stopped gushing about how every little thing that Ken did was nothing short of a miracle. That was probably what hurt the most, that his own little sister was editing her comments about him in order to save him a little bit of hurt.

An impatient little sigh met his ears. "Ken's awake and crying for Daddy," she said softly.

"Go ahead. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I cancelled my lunch date, so I should be home all day. Especially now that I have Ken. And remember, I want to see a picture of your little angel. Tomorrow morning is fine. It doesn't have to be tonight."

"Give Kenny a kiss from his uncle. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Shane sighed and put his cell phone down on the night stand, looking down at the slumbering child lying on his chest. The baby was getting close to the age where she would begin to distrust strangers, faces that she didn't recognize, but at the moment, she reached out to anyone, smiling her toothless grin, her eyes shining and full of love and life. He was planning to take advantage of it for as long as he could, at least until the real father would be indentified.

Shane McMahon was well known backstage for a number of things. His marriage, for one, which was rock solid, most likely because his wife had been raised from moneyed people, and was content being a society wife more than she was concerned about being introduced to the family business. Aside from the lack of children, everyone knew that the couple were still madly in love with each other. His business sense was almost uncanny, much like his father's. While Stephanie was more hit and miss, toss everything at the wall and see what stuck, Shane had the ability to make a decision and have it be right most of the time, going off his gut instinct and the lessons he had learned from his father.

And he was known as a backstage babysitter whenever he needed to fill in. He wanted a child, desperately, so much at times that it was all he could think about. Renée wanted a child because he wanted one. He had his suspicions that it was also because it would open up a new social circle for her, but he didn't fault her for that, since that was the life that she wanted to live. And whenever the men and women backstage brought their significant others and children to visit, Shane was the go-to guy for a quick sitting job so the parents could spend some time together. He happily pushed away his work to pay attention to the little boys and girl, ranging in age from infants to fourteen or so, and there were a number of them that came tearing into arenas on their third or fourth visits, demanding to know where "Uncle" Shane was.

He let his eyes slip shut, crossing his feet at the ankles and feeling for the comforting weight on his chest. Maybe when this one grew up and began to talk and indentify people, there would be another little one that added "Uncle" Shane to their list of known people. Maybe she would be another one who would toddle up to him and tug on his pant leg for his attention, knowing that he would bestow it upon her in an instant.

If he couldn't have his own children, damn it, he would borrow some of the others that were running around.

* * *

It was an emergency meeting, of sorts, much like the McMahon's had held earlier that day. Despite the fact that they were all exhausted, and a number of them were sore from their matches, they all gathered in one of the hotel rooms, taking every available sitting space and creating a few new ones on the floor. Cases of beer had come in with them, and all of them sat around the room, sharing significant glances before dropping their eyes back down to their beer bottles.

"All right, we should probably get this over with," Edge said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence in the room. The group, comprised of friends and co-workers that saw each other more often than their own families, looked back at him. He tried not to groan, not liking his role as director of the group. Usually, that was Chris Jericho's job, who had a natural ability to lead. But the man was more interested in staring into his beer bottle and digging his toe into the carpet from where he sat on the floor with his back against the wall. "Who does the little girl belong to?"

"She's not a possession, man. She's a kid," Jericho muttered, and then shrugged. "She's not mine. I haven't slept around since I met my wife. 'Sides, she'd probably rip my dick off and feed it to the dog. I know for a fact that I have two kids, 'n' both of them are boys." He finished speaking, the end of his sentence sounding like a sulky _so there_. "You?"

Raising his free hand, Edge shook his head. "Dude. I've learned my lesson about what gettin' me some will do. I'm not gonna say how long it's been since I've had sex, 'cause I know you lot will rub it in my face, but suffice to say, it's been that long. So unless the sperm donor fairy came to visit me in the middle of the night, she's not mine."

A snort sounded from the other bed, and Randy Orton shook his head. "Where the hell is this going to get us? You think some truth session is gonna make someone open up and say, 'hell yeah, that's my kid', because if you really do think that, you've taken too many shots to the head." As everyone's eyes turned towards him, his face coloured and he shook his head. "Fuck no, she's not my daughter. My wife is like Jericho's; I like my equipment where it is. Besides, I've got enough going on with my own kid to even risk a one night stand with someone."

"How's Melissa doing?" Jericho asked from the corner.

Randy shrugged and drained his beer, before getting up to get another. "You try arguing with a four year old why she can't have ice cream with her friends, or that she has to prick her finger three times a day to check her blood sugar. And on top of that, the paediatrician thinks she has a peanut allergy." Everyone backstage knew well the trials of Orton's little girl, who had been born premature, before he and his wife had been married. Diabetes and a peanut allergy was getting off easy, compared to some of the horror stories Randy had heard from the doctor about premature births. "Anyone else?"

"Yo," a voice said from behind him. Randy turned and handed Christian a beer, before picking his way through the bodies and back to his space on the bed. He glared at John Cena as he sat down. "Move your fat ass over, would you?"

"Just keeping your space warm, cupcake," Cena said, giving him a cheeky grin and getting a shove in the shoulder in return.

"Yeah, what about you, Cena? You're pretty well known for stepping out on your fiancée," Randy said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

With all eyes on him, John shrugged his shoulders and made a face. "I guess it's possible. I don't remember if I had sex with anyone...how long would it have been? Over a year ago? I dunno. Shit man, I can't be the only one that could be the possible father. I know some of you haven't said anything, but I know things."

"Yeah, you know things. Jackass," Christian muttered from his place against the wall before throwing his beer cap back towards the ice bucket. "I guess she could be mine, too. My divorce was awhile ago, and I know that there were a few women around then. What the hell are we going to do, line up for paternity tests and then pass around the cigars? Congratulations, it's a girl?"

"Happy fatherhood," Matt Hardy said from beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, go fuck yourself, Hardy." Cocking his head to the side, Christian examined the dark haired man. "You know, the kid has curly dark hair, too."

Matt Hardy sighed. "Yeah, I heard. Add me to the potential list of suspects. My girlfriend would kill me if she heard, though."

"Locker room code of honour, man. No one's gonna spill the beans to her." With a grin, Mike "The Miz" Mizanin raised his hands. "It ain't mine, either," he proudly stated.

"That's because no woman in their right mind would sleep with you," Matt Hardy shot back.

"Go fuck yourself, Hardy," The Miz shot back, causing Christian to snicker into his beer. "I could get used to saying that."

"Now you see why it's my second favourite phrase, right after 'Shut up, Jericho'. They both have a nice ring to them," Christian explained, before directing a grin at the man in question. Jericho shook his head with a smile. Things just hadn't been in the same in the locker room when he had come back, not until Christian had made his return with his usual smartass comments. The man had a wicked sense of humour that most people appreciated - until it got on their nerves. "Morrison?"

The long haired man shook his head. "If my girlfriend even suspected me of sleeping around, she'd be gone in a second. I'm not gonna risk it."

"You did six months ago," The Miz protested.

John Morrison's face turned red as he pushed back his hair. "Yeah, well, that was the only time. And I've more than made it up to her. The diamond necklace cost me an arm and a leg, and she thought I was just being romantic."

Orton sighed. "I told you, man. This isn't getting us anywhere, and this is nowhere near the entire roster. Hell, just think of everyone else it could be. There are too many names, man. Don't get me wrong, I believe everyone in this room that said they haven't been sleeping around on their others, but there are a lot of guys who do. Not judging anyone, just saying. I was the same way until my little girl came around. I don't have the fucking energy to sleep with anyone, let alone my wife half the time."

Edge snorted, shaking his head. "Just think, this could be Vince McMahon's worst nightmare. She could be Hunter's kid. Or Shane's."

"They're both pussy-whipped," Christian said with a shake of his head. "No way. You want to talk about devoted family men, there are two prime examples. Probably because of the threat to their careers, but hey, whatever works, right? Besides, Stephanie would know if either of them was sleeping around. She's like the gossip queen backstage. You ever need to know anything, you go to Steph."

"True. So, what? You three willing to stand up for paternity tests if it comes to that?" Edge asked, watching as all three men who had admitted it could be them turned pale and began to mutter. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You're all wimps."

"Yeah, well you might not suddenly be getting cards on Father's Day, all right?"


	4. Chapter Four

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter Four**

"Aw," a voice cooed beside him. "Is Unckie Hunter being mean and not changing you?"

Hunter turned to glare at Randy Orton, taking his eyes off the crying child for a moment. "_Unckie_? Your dad dropped you on your head, didn't he?" he questioned, before shifting Ella in his arms. "And she's not wet."

"Please. That's a 'change me' cry. I realize that my kid is older than yours, but I recognize a 'change me' cry when I hear one. Hand her over," he added, before holding out his arms. Rolling his eyes, Hunter passed over the sobbing infant, watching as Randy cupped his hand over the diaper. "Hell, man, she's soaked. Pass me the diaper bag."

Grudgingly, the larger man handed it over. "I swear, she was changed an hour ago." Randy grunted and reached into the bag for a towel, spreading it out on the locker room bench, before laying the little girl down on her back, keeping one hand securely on her stomach to keep her from rolling off. He dug back into the diaper bag and found what he was looking for, laying out the supplies on the bench and floor. He straddled the bench at her feet and started to remove her diaper. "You do much of this with your Melissa?"

Randy shook his head, easing away the used diaper before grabbing one of the wipes. "Nah. Not as much as I'd like to. Stupid as it sounds, I missed out on wiping Melly's little butt and I wanted to be there for that. 'Course now, she doesn't want to let Mom prick her finger before her meals, which makes it that much harder. She only wants her daddy." He frowned as he unfolded the new diaper, sliding it under the gurgling infant.

"She's doing good though?"

"Oh, yeah. Melly's a trooper. We worked out a diet with the pediatrician and there's no need to put her on insulin shots so far. She's doing pretty good with the new medication. Teaching her how to swallow pills was fun. I swear, it took a whole box of Tic-Tacs before she got the hang of it. Kid was hyper like you wouldn't believe, but neither of us could think of anything better." He finished fastening the new diaper on the baby and lifted her up, nuzzling her cheek. "Who's a dry little girl now, huh? Who? Is it you? Yes, it is. That's our dry little girl."

Hunter smirked. "You really were dropped on your head."

"Oh, like I haven't seen you do the whole baby talk thing when nobody's lookin'. Don't give me that crap." Randy smiled back at the girl who tried to grab his nose with both hands. "She likes me."

"She likes everyone."

"Yeah? Well, she was crying when you were holding her."

"Because she was wet, you idiot."

Another pair of hands appeared, plucking the baby out of Randy Orton's arms and into another pair. Chris Jericho grinned down at the girl, who was staring at the round pendant on his necklace with wide and fascinated eyes. "Are they fighting over you, Princess? I know how much it sucks when Mommy and Daddy fight." He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "I just don't know which one wears the pants in the family."

"Fuck you, Jericho," Randy said good naturedly, reaching out to tickle one of the bare feet in front of him. Ella giggled and pulled her foot away.

"Actually, the correct phrase is 'Go fuck yourself, Hardy'. But that's neither here nor there," Jericho said, as Ella reached out to grab at the pendant. He smiled and held her against him with one hand, rubbing the back of her hand gently until she released the round disk. "Did I really just walk in on you guys fighting over changing her? You know, if this leaks out, our wives are probably going to demand more children."

Hunter chuckled, sitting down on the bench. "Yeah, Steph already has that look in her eyes. We said we were waiting until Kenny was a little older, but this one is convincing her otherwise. I'm going to have fun talking her out of that one."

"Yeah. I called and talked to my wife about possibly looking after her while we're all on the road. Stephanie asked me last night, and we still have all the gear from the boys. She asked when I was going to be home. I can only imagine what that means," Jericho mused, as a small hand patted his jaw and cheek. "She sure has turned this locker room upside down, for being such a little thing. If one good thing comes out of this, she's gonna have a whole bunch of aunts and uncles."

Ella looked up at Jericho and gave him a toothless grin, before her mouth opened and she spit up on the front of his shirt. Hunter and Randy started to laugh, which caused Ella to giggle. "And that would be my cue. She's all yours," he said, giving the infant a wry look before depositing her into Hunter's waiting arms.

"She's already done the dirty work. I'll gladly take her now," he said. "Good girl. If you have to spit up on anyone, make sure it's Unckie Chris."

"_Unckie_?" Jericho questioned as he strode off towards the shower area to wash off his shirt.

Slowly, the rest of the locker room began to fill in, guys walking in and dropping off their gear, Ella getting handed from willing wrestler to willing wrestler. Most of the fathers took their time with her, and Undertaker was the lucky one that got to feed her a bottle, while a good number of well-muscled men stood around and cooed at her. She took it all in with shining eyes and smiles, waving her pudgy fists and laughing along with everyone else.

Shane McMahon came to pick her up before the show started, the infant staying with him since he had already arranged for the crib and accessories to be brought up to his hotel room the night before. A group of Divas stood outside the door to the men's locker room, waiting for him to step out so that they could fuss over the little girl. The company had always maintained that WWE was like a family, but it had never been more true as locker room disputes were forgotten, past grudges ignored so that they could all have a chance to play with the little girl.

* * *

Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley hurried down the hallway, tying her bathrobe tighter around herself. If it hadn't of been for the sound of tightly controlled panic in her brother's voice, she would have taken the time to throw on a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, maybe even put her hair in a ponytail, in case she ran into a sleepless employee. But because of the call to her cell phone, she had simply grabbed the complimentary robe to cover her boxer shorts and tee shirt, and shoved a pair of ankle socks on before running for the elevator.

As she neared the room that her brother was staying in, she slowed her progress, a smile coming to her face when she could hear faint cries coming from the other side of the door. Chuckling to herself, she knocked on the door, the crying getting louder as Shane came to let her in. She immediately held out her arms and took the baby into them, rubbing her back as she walked in. "What's the matter?" she asked, using the wide collar of the robe to dry the wetness on Ella's face.

"I don't know. That's why I called. She just won't stop crying. I thought maybe she was hungry, but she kept turning away from the bottle. I checked to make sure she wasn't wet. She's not running a fever or anything. I don't have a clue."

Stephanie shushed the sniffling child. "She was turning _away_ from the bottle? Like turning her head away or just being generally fussy?"

"I don't really know the difference," Shane admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "She's probably keeping up the entire floor. I just don't know what to try next."

She sat down, a patient smile on her face. "I'm sorry. I just have to sit here and enjoy the role reversal. All these years, you've been the one giving me advice. If it wasn't for this little one squealing her head off, I'd probably just sit and bask. Ah, this is rich." Her smile turned into a grin. "Okay, I'm done. Has Ella been chewing on anything today?"

"I was beginning to think that her foot was permanently attached to her mouth. She kept trying to chew on them after I put her in the sleeper, but she's been sticking her hands in her mouth, too."

"Poor little thing," Stephanie said sweetly, adjusting the girl on her lap. She nestled her against one arm and brought up the other hand, running her finger along Ella's lip until she opened her mouth. She pushed her fingertip into the girl's mouth and rubbed it along her bottom gums, listening as the cries quieted. "She's getting her first tooth. It's a little painful." She continued to rub, until Ella quieted down, her eyes drooping shut. "Mom taught me this trick. A couple of minutes and she'll be asleep. It helps relieve the pain. I'll run down in the morning and get her a teething ring."

"I don't remember...was Kenny that bad?"

Stephanie laughed quietly, shaking her head. "You think this is bad? Ken screamed his head off every chance he got, with every tooth that came in. He still cries when he gets a new tooth. If Hunter hadn't been at home, injured, I probably would have ripped my hair out trying to deal with him alone. Nothing we did would work for long. Those were some sleepless nights. I went through so much Advil that I probably should have bought shares in the company."

Shane laughed softly as Stephanie stood up, removing her finger from Ella's mouth. She wiped it on her robe as she walked to the crib, laying the infant down. "You're good," he told her.

Looking over her shoulder with a grin, she nodded. "I know." Turning back to him, she stretched her arms above her head. "If she starts crying again, just do what I did. You'll be able to find the lump in her gums pretty easily. She probably won't want a bottle that often, but if you put some of her food in the fridge, it'll probably help. You'll be fine, Shane. At least you won't have to go through all twenty or so teeth coming in."

"Yeah," he said softly, causing her to cock her head as she regarded him carefully. Her smile dimmed a bit as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, surprising him into not responding. The McMahon family was not a family that prided itself on its physical interactions. That wasn't to say that the kids didn't get their fair share of hugs and kisses when they were younger. But as they grew up, the hugs and kisses on the cheek became reserved for special occasions only: graduations, weddings, funerals, and births.

Smiling into his shoulder as he returned the hug, she rubbed the space between his shoulder blades briefly, pulling away to look up at him. "It's going to happen eventually, Shane. And in the meantime, you can borrow Kenny whenever you want. And now you have Ella to fuss over."

"Yeah. Not for long, though," he answered, before breaking the embrace and taking a step back. "That little one has a dad out there somewhere.

Stephanie made a face and tucked her messy hair behind her ears. "I was going to tell you this in the morning, but since I'm here now...I convinced Dad that if the father doesn't step up and assume responsibility in a month, we're going to offer to run paternity tests. Don't give me that look, Shane. It was the best I could do."

"A _month_? Jesus. And what are we doing with Ella in the meantime?"

She shrugged. "Jericho called his wife, and they're willing to take her in. Granted, she'd have her hands full, considering they already have two kids, and she'd have to take time off work in order to watch them all, but they're willing. It's a temporary solution, but it's the best we have."

Shane shook his head and sat down on the corner of his bed, glancing over at the crib. "Or Renée and I could take her. You've got Ken's crib and stuff in storage, I've got the room at my house, and Renée doesn't work, so it's not like it would be that much of a hardship." He chuckled when he saw her look. "Don't give me that look, Stephanie," he mocked.

"I'm just...well, not really surprised, I guess. I knew that _you_ would offer, but does Renée even know that you're offering? Have you even talked to her?"

"Am I stupid enough to offer something like this without talking to my wife first?"

"Yes," she shot back quickly, before rolling her eyes. "You always have to be impulsive, don't you? Okay, fair enough, you guys talked it over. Are you sure, though? You know what comes with having an infant, right? Obviously, you do, since she's stayed with you for two nights, but there's more to it than this. It's not all fun and games, Shane. She's been an angel so far, but as I'm very quickly learning with Kenny, as cute as they look, they can be little terrors."

He shrugged. "I'm not an idiot, Steph. I do have some experience in this department. Don't forget how many times I watched Ken when he was little, not to mention the fact that there's quite a few years between us. I do remember you growing up. I'm not exactly helpless."

"No, but this is a little different. And it's not like you looking after Ken, either. You can't give her back after a day or so. She'll be with you for the whole month. You won't be able to call me and say 'okay, I've had enough, come pick her up'. And how are you going to deal with it when we do figure out who the father is? You're going to be able to cheerfully give her up? Shane, I know you. I know how you get attached. You wear your heart on your sleeve." Stephanie sank down on the bed next to him, giving him a shrewd look. "Are you and Renée sure about this? Knowing what's going to happen?"

With a roll of his eyes, he turned to her. "Steph, you and I know better than anyone what Dad means when he says he wants to keep this in house. He doesn't mean the company. He never has. He means the family. He may deny it, but it is what he means, yes?" She nodded reluctantly. "Okay, fine. When I go back home tomorrow, I'll stop by your place and pick up the crib and everything else we might need. It's down in the basement?" She nodded again. "Good. Then it's settled."

"And what are you going to do when you're on the road for me next week?"

"I'm not going to ruin your time off. Renée and I will discuss it, but most likely, she'll come with me. We're dealing well enough with having her on the road right now. I don't see how it'll be any different. I'll call and inform the airlines and the hotels of the change. And when I do have to work, if I can't take her with me, there are plenty of people backstage that would be happy to have her for an hour or so. Hell, you can barely pry some of them away from her now."

Stephanie laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "Because she's a novelty. Ooh, shiny, and all that. God, this is like WWE's version of _The Babysitters Club_."

"You still read those?" he joked.

"Oh, hush up. If I remember right, you have the entire collection of _Hardy Boys Mysteries_, including the ones with Nancy Drew." Childishly, she stuck her tongue out at him, and laughed when he lightly punched her on the arm. She sobered quickly and looked towards the crib again, at the sleeping infant with the curly dark hair. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into, Shane?"

"The same thing I've been trying to get myself into for the past five years with no success?" he asked, his voice equally soft. "Who knows, maybe it'll be good practice. And besides, she sleeps through the night, so I don't have to worry about hauling my ass out of dead at three a.m. to feed her."

She snorted. "Yeah, you get to avoid all the fun stuff." With a sigh, she stood up, tying her robe tighter. "All right, I'll let Jericho know that he and his wife aren't temporarily adopting. And because you're a wimp, I'll let Mom and Dad know, too. Can't say he's gonna be pleased about it, and we may be working him into an early heart attack, but it's your choice."

Shane looked up at her with a faint smile. "Thanks, Stephanie."

"Anytime. Now get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning before you take off." She waved and let herself out of the hotel room, closing the door quietly behind her. A smile played on her lips as she made her way back to the elevator and then back to her own floor.

She let herself into her hotel room and slipped off the robe, hanging it in the bathroom and tiptoeing through the darkened room until she found the bed. With a sigh, she crawled back in, her smile becoming wider when she felt a heavy arm band itself around her. "So?" Hunter asked, sounding like he was barely awake.

"She's getting her first tooth. He panicked."

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" he muttered and she was sure that if the light had been on, she could have seen him roll his eyes. "And?"

"And he fell for it. Ella is going home with Shane, and he and Renée are going to watch her. Your plan worked."

He grunted. "You know, if he finds out that Jericho actually said _no_ when you asked him, there'll be hell to pay. Just so you know."

Stephanie smirked into the darkness and gave him arm a tap. "Hey, it was your idea, not mine. I barely had to do any work. He had his mind made up before I said much. Probably before I even got into the room." She turned towards him and felt him sigh. "We did do the right thing, didn't we?"

"I think so. I also think that I'm very tired and I need my sleep. 'Sides, we're gonna have to deal with your dad in the morning."

"_We_?" she questioned.

"Well, you. I was just trying to be nice."

She laughed and hit him again.


	5. Chapter Five

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter Five**

To say that Renée McMahon was beautiful would be a lie. Her husband would swear up and down that she was, but he was biased. In anything, she was considered to be striking, thanks to her large and round brown eyes. But she looked the part of the perfect society wife, and a nice compliment to her husband. Her hair was still free of grey, whether because she hadn't received that first grey hair yet or because of the studious work of her hair dresser and colorist. She was lightly tanned, not by the sun, of course, which stood out against her husband's naturally pale skin. She was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was applied expertly to show off her best features, her clothes were designer and clung to her body in all the right places, thanks to the diet that had made her what was fashionably thin within her social circle.

That was what everyone else saw. Shane McMahon, on the other hand, saw his wife melt and smile bright enough to light up a room when she took Ella in her arms. "Oh," she breathed, as the infant looked up at her with wide eyes. "She's an absolute doll. Those pictures just didn't do her justice."

With a smile on his face, he peered over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "I know. She's gorgeous."

"Look at those little hands," she mused, as one chubby hand patted her chin and cheek. "She's precious. I don't know how anyone could just give her up."

"Money reasons. The mother couldn't afford her." Ella caught sight of Shane hanging over Renée's shoulder and broke into a wide grin, babbling incoherently at him. He widened his eyes and waved to her, chuckling when her arms flailed, like she was trying to do the same.

Renée sighed. "I wish I could understand. But you and I have never had money problems in our lives. Still, for an angel like this, I could see myself doing anything to keep her." She raised the infant closer to her, getting a laugh in return. "Little Ella. Does she have a middle name?"

"Probably. But the note didn't list one. No last name yet, either."

Renée smiled. "It's going to be an interesting month for you." At his look, her smile widened. "Stephanie informed me of everything when she called to say that they were coming for dinner tonight. I already called, and they should be delivering the Chinese food in a few hours. I would've cooked something, but the movers just got done awhile ago with the setting up of the crib."

"Movers?" he questioned, stepping away to gather the stuff he had left at the door. The suitcase he left at the foot of the stairs to be taken up later, and he shouldered the diaper bag. Renée nodded to the stairs and started to climb them, holding Ella securely.

"You think I was going to be able to move the bed out of the guest room and set up the crib myself? I wanted it done before you came home, so you and Hunter wouldn't have to do it yourselves." He followed her down the hall to the guest room, opening the door to show him the crib and the changing table and rocking chair that had been brought over from Stephanie's house, a mobile hanging from the ceiling. The large oak bed and dressing table that had dominated the room before had been moved out, the only presence of the, being the indents on the carpet. "And I went down and did a little shopping. She can't spend her time in the same few outfits that she has."

He grinned, dropping the diaper bag on the changing table. "I'm almost afraid to ask how much you spent."

Renée cooed at the little girl, holding her securely with one arm as she opened the top drawer of the bureau, showing off the neatly folded clothes and sleepers in there. "Take one look at this face and tell me that one little drawer full of clothes isn't worth it," she said, her lips curving into a smile. "We'll call it an early Father's Day present when her daddy is found."

He dipped his head and kissed her, reaching out to close the drawer with one hand and then yanking the second drawer open, pulling away with a triumphant laugh. "One drawer, huh?"

She gazed down at the second drawer filled with baby clothes, her cheeks flushing. "Well...okay, two drawers."

"And if I open another?"

Raising her head defiantly, she turned away. "Just blankets and bibs and some towels. And a few toys. Some shoes." She spun back to him, her nose in the air in a show of mock haughtiness. "She's an honorary McMahon; she might as well be treated as one."

Shane laughed as he closed the second drawer and peeked in the third. "Uh huh. And that money was just burning a hole in your pocket."

"I didn't even spend it all in one place," she joked, putting Ella in the crib. "Besides, I used a credit card. I think I'm their new favourite customer." Turning back to him, she grinned. "C'mon, we have some time before Stephanie and Hunter show up, and the little one needs a nap." Holding out her hand to him, her smile turned into a smirk as she peered up into his face. "It gives you enough time to do your laundry," she finished.

Shane groaned and she led him out of the room.

* * *

"Oh, dear God, I needed this," Stephanie groaned, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes.

Renée looked up from her plate, her lips twisting into a smirk. "The chocolate?"

Waving a hand, she sighed and opened her eyes again. "Well, that too. I meant today. It's been so long since I just took a day off and spent it at the spa. I'm almost afraid to look at the bill afterwards."

Snorting, Renée reached for her water glass. "You and Shane both, always examining your credit card bills with a magnifying glass. Trust me, however much this costs, it's worth it. What's the point of life if you're not enjoying it?"

Stephanie conceded the point with a cock of her head. "Yeah, but with the economy the way it is, and with the first quarter numbers coming out soon, I feel a bit guilty indulging like this. Don't get me wrong, I completely agree with you, because you and I both need some time like this, but at the same time..."

Her sister-in-law smiled proudly. "Think about it this way: we're putting more money back into the community this way, and we're supporting a local business." They laughed together for a moment. "So, any news on the Ella front?"

"Oh, God, like that wasn't a tense dinner with my parents. Dad's still about to blow his top because of all of this, and Mom is more amused than anything, but even she can't deny the impact it would have on the company if it were to get out. It's going to come down to those paternity tests, I bet. We can't actually force anyone into taking one, but we're looking into the contracts to see if maybe there's a loophole that we can use to our advantage. But the only samples that we collect from the performers right now are a urine sample for drug testing, and that can't be used for paternity testing. Plus, the drug testing is supposed to be random."

Renée's eyes widened slightly as she thought about what her sister-in-law said. "Wait, you mean the testing isn't random?"

Stephanie gave her a hard look. "It is. But hypothetically, if there were some rumours backstage about someone and it happened to be heard by the right people, that person's name could end up on a list. Again, purely hypothetical."

"Oh, don't pull that shit with me, Stephanie. I'm not going to go around and start gossiping about the company. I know where my bread is buttered. Besides, I probably know more than I should about the company already. Good old pillow talk." She tightened the robe around her and sighed. "Don't you think that these guys will voluntarily take a paternity test?"

It was Stephanie's turn to snort. "Yeah, right. A good majority of the guys are either married or in established relationships. You think any of them want to walk in the door with a six month old on their arm and face their wife? Would I love to be a fly on the wall for _that_ conversation." She shook her head. "The chance of the actual father taking a paternity test voluntarily, unless he's bullied into it by the locker room, is looking slim to none. A few of the single guys might, but I haven't heard anything yet."

"Is it really going to hurt the company that much if it gets out? You're relying on a lot of people staying quiet about this."

She smiled wryly down at her plate, and poked at the brownie sitting there with her fork. "I'm kind of surprised that it hasn't leaked out yet. I think most of them are more scared than anything. Just think about how many people could be the father. At least the note that was left said that the father is a wrestler, so it's not like we have to look at the entire staff, but the roster is a large part of that. Not to mention the fact that we're not even considering the guys that aren't with the company anymore. Or those on the injured list. There are just so many possibilities out there." She shook her head again and looked up at Renée. "So, how are you and Shane dealing with having Ella in the house?"

Renée grinned. "She's an angel. That tooth came in, and I think Shane's taken about twenty pictures of that alone. He already filled up one memory card with the camera, and he's well on his way with the second one."

Stephanie laughed and reached for the bottle of water on the table, filling her glass. "I guess my gift came in handy, then, if my brother seems intent on filling it up himself."

The night that Stephanie, Hunter, and Ken had come over for dinner, she had brought with her a gift that had the entire table roaring with laughter at one point, Ken joining in just because everyone else was laughing. She had brought with her a premade scrapbook, the cover in pastel colors, and each page carefully titled with Stephanie's neat hand. It was intended to be a baby book, hopefully a gift for the new father so that he could be caught up on everything he missed in the past month, but it had been made with Stephanie's sometimes twisted sense of humour. The page titles ranged from _Famous People that Wiped My Butt_ to _My First Autograph Page (They're all egomaniacs)_ to _Arenas I've Pooped In_. Each page was more priceless than the last, and before long, they had all been laughing so hard that they were crying. Stephanie had just smiled sweetly and explained that she had wanted to make a book like that for her son, but had decided against it.

"It seems that way. And he'll have more of an opportunity during the week, since he's taking her back on the road with him."

If Stephanie's eyebrows could have gone higher, they probably would have flied off her face. "What? But I thought that she was going to stay with you while he was on the road."

Renée shrugged. "So did I. He's completely fallen in love with that little girl. She has him wrapped around her little finger and she hasn't spoken her first word yet, as far as we know."

"We don't have a birth certificate for her. What's he going to do, drive down to Tennessee? He can't take her on a plane!"

"Hey, maybe you'll have more luck getting through to him, because he sure didn't listen to me when I told him that it was a bad idea." Shane's wife shook her head with a sigh, looking off into the distance. "I think I'm rubbing off on him. He's booked the company jet to take him as a work-around."

"Oh, for..." Stephanie trailed off. "I thought I was bad, but Shane's really trying to send Dad to an early grave. We're supposed to be chartering the damned thing for some extra revenue. It would only be a blip on the radar for the quarterly report, but still. Shane doesn't know the first thing about traveling with an infant. It's definitely not all fun and games."

With a sigh, Renée looked back at her. "He knows that. But he's wrapped up in the fact that he's a replacement father right now. The way he looks at Ella...it's like she's his daughter. He's fallen completely in love with her. I've never seen anything like it before."

"I have," Stephanie offered, raising her hand slightly like she was asking to be called on in class. "Hunter was that way when he saw Kenny the first time. Never mind the fact that he was covered in blood and goo and whatnot, or that he had a little wrinkled old man's face. It was like _boom_, instant love."

"But there's a difference between Hunter falling in love with Ken, and Shane falling in love with Ella. She isn't actually our daughter. _I_ know that. _He_ doesn't seem to. And what's going to happen when we have to give her up to her real father?"

"He'll be heartbroken," Stephanie said frankly. "As much as I hate to see my brother like that, the truth is, it's like he's made of Teflon. He'll bounce back quicker than you realize."

Renée rolled her eyes at her sister-in-law. Sometimes, she had a hard time understanding the relationship between Stephanie and Shane. They loved each other, she knew that, and she also knew and had seen demonstrations of the fact that Shane would do almost anything for his sister. But they had such a flippant, carefree way of talking about each other, bordering on uncaring at times. Granted, Renée was an only child, so there was a whole mystique to the brother/sister relationship as far as she was concerned. "This isn't Shane hurting himself before the big football game at Homecoming and not being able to play. This is a little more serious."

"Everything with Shane is serious. Don't forget, I grew up around him. I've known him my whole life. Unfortunately," she added jokingly. When she saw the look on Renée's face, she held back somewhat on what she wanted to say. "You may disagree with me about this, but I think this might be good for Shane. I don't know much about what he's like at home lately, because I've been on the road for God knows how long, but when he's there, he definitely isn't himself. He has been acting like himself since Ella came around."

The indignation, on her husband's behalf, was clear on her face. "You're kidding me, Stephanie. You _want_ your brother to get hurt over this? Of course, you're not the one that's going to have to deal with him after, now are you?"

"Maybe not to the degree that you will, but I will have to deal with him. When he can't talk to you, who does he go to? Me, Renée. He has for awhile now. And a healthy dose of hurt never hurt anyone. Maybe it'll make him appreciate what he has a little more. He's so focused on becoming a father that he's missing out on everything else."

"And giving him the chance to pretend to be a father and then taking it away from him isn't going to make it worse?"

Stephanie sighed and dropped her fork on her plate with a clatter. "Worse comes to worst, I could always give him a good slap upside the head. Trust me; I've been considering it for awhile." When she smiled at Renée, it was somewhat sad. "I know he's your husband, but he's my big brother. And I miss having my big brother. What he's been lately, that wasn't Shane and you know it as well as I do. No matter if this helps or hurts, I had to do something. You know that if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for me."

"I know," Renée murmured, looking down at her lap for a moment. Trying to salvage the rest of the day, she smiled suddenly and changed the conversation, seeing Stephanie's eyes brighten at the prospect of gossip. "So, did you hear what happened to the Sheffield's girl? Absolutely scandalous."

"The oldest one? She always was a troublemaker. What is it this time?"

* * *

"There's my beautiful girl," Shane murmured as he lifted Ella from the crib. Her cries slackened off, but didn't quit, as he held her against him, walking towards the rocking chair in the corner. He sat down and started the chair in motion gently, rubbing her back. Shane went through a mental list: she had just been fed, her diaper seemed to be fresh, and it didn't look like she was expecting another tooth, and she certainly wasn't running a fever. He reasoned that maybe it was just one of those things, where she just felt the need to cry. Maybe she was lonely, maybe she missed her mother.

He talked to her quietly as she continued to cry, though it had turned into soft whimpers and sniffling. She settled down in his arms after awhile, and he crooned her name to her over and over again, Ella looking up at him with solemn blue eyes. Shane quickly discovered that she was quiet when he spoke to her, and became restless when he stopped, so he kept up a conversation with him, turning her so that she was cradled in his arm rather than held against him.

"You're my pretty little Ella, aren't you?" he asked her quietly, getting a blink of her eyes in response. He pulled down the sleeve of his sweatshirt and wiped the wetness off of her face. "You're not really mine, but we can pretend, can't we?"

She babbled back, and he wiped away a thin trail of drool from her chin.

"I don't know who your daddy is, sweetheart, but whoever he is, he's pretty lucky to have such a pretty girl. Even if he doesn't know it yet." He paused for a moment and heard her breath hitch in her chest as she prepared to cry again. "We're going to find out, though, I promise you."

With a whimper, she pushed her hand in her mouth.

"I know it's not fair to you, but I almost don't want us to find out who you're daddy is, because the longer it takes, the longer I get to keep you." He stopped and considered his words. "The longer _we_ get to keep you," Shane amended, before tickling her stomach with a single finger. All he got in response was that serious gaze and a yawn, before she went back to suckling on her fingers.

He dipped his head and placed a kiss in the middle of her dark curls. There was nothing like the smell of a baby, to him. There was something comforting about it, the mixture of Johnson's baby shampoo and Ivory soap and baby powder. She nestled against him and closed her eyes.

"You're perfect. You know that, Ella?" She opened her eyes briefly and then closed them again with a little sigh. "You are. And you know what, if we can't find out who your daddy is, or if he doesn't want you...he'd have to be really fucking stupid not to want you - " He stopped and looked down at her, surprising himself with the curse that slipped past his lips. "Sorry, beautiful. That better not be your first word now. But my point is, if anything happens, you're gonna stay here with me, okay? How's that sound?"

As Ella didn't answer, and kept her eyes closed, falling asleep, he smiled and took her answer to be _yes_. "I'll be here for you, Ella. No matter what, anything you need."


	6. Chapter Six

**Promise an Ocean  
Chapter Six**

Shane gave Christian a dubious look before he shrugged and deposited Ella in his arms. The blond man fought not to make a face and held the infant at arms length, like he was afraid she was going to throw up on him. "You're sure about this?" Shane asked again, his expression hesitant.

"Uh - yeah, man. It's cool. You need to work, right?" Christian said as Ella babbled at him, drawing her knees up and kicking in the air. "Besides, the weird Hardy is in there, and he could use the practice, you know? Got a little one on the way."

"I heard," Shane murmured, before shaking his head. "I'm doing this against my better judgment, 'cause honestly, you look scared shitless. Have you even ever held a kid before?"

The indignant look that Christian gave him couldn't hide the confusion that had coloured his face ever since he had been holding onto Ella awkwardly. "I have brothers, you know. Brothers with kids. I'm Uncle Christian." He paused and sighed, finally conceding the point. "Of course, I stayed the hell away from them until they were out of the diaper age."

"Screw this." Shane reached out for her again, intending to take her away, when the other man drew her in towards his chest, scowling at him. "Oh, what, now you're playing Papa Bear with her?"

His lips curved into a smile. "That's what all the ladies call me," he joked. "Just cool your jets, McMahon. We'll be fine. The kidlet is gonna be fine with me. And Hardy and Jericho and Orton and whoever else might be hanging out in the locker room. Ain't that right, babe? You and Uncle Christian are gonna be fine." He hoisted the infant up so that they were eye level with each other, and she stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry in his face. "See? She likes me!"

"Yeah, 'cause she spits in everyone's face. She's a mini-Carlito," Shane said dryly. "If you have any problems, come find me. Or drop her off with Maryse. She has like a million and a half little brothers and sisters. And don't talk to her too much. I don't want her first word being 'dude' or 'whatever'. At least Maryse might make her bilingual."

Christian's blue eyes narrowed. "I hope your dick rots and falls off, you little pussy," he said in perfect Francophone, before smirking down at the babbling Ella and getting a boisterous laugh from the blonde Diva in question as she walked past.

"She's probably yours anyway. Never could keep it in your pants," Shane returned in perfect German, before returning the smirk. He watched as Christian flipped him the bird with one of the hands holding onto Ella, before backing up into the locker room, still holding the infant like she had a contagious disease. Shane rolled his eyes and walked away, hoping that she would come back in one piece.

As soon as Christian walked in and let the door shut behind him, a corner of the locker room because quiet, watching his progress over towards them. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Jeff Hardy said as he came close, reaching out to pluck Ella from Christian's grasp, ignoring the indignant squawk from the other man. "You don't even know how to hold her."

"Oh, and you do? You'll probably hold her upside down from her ankles."

"Yes, because I look like Michael Jackson. Dumb ass," Jeff muttered, nestling her against his arm. She settled down and looked around at everyone, her hand in her mouth, drool leaking down her chin.

"It seems like you two share the same mental issues," Christian said, before plopping himself down in a metal chair. "Okay, old married couple bickering aside, let's get the line up together and see who she looks like."

"You two scare me sometimes," Matt Hardy said from his seat.

Both men turned to look at him, eyes narrowed and scowls on their faces. The "Go fuck yourself," was said in perfect unison, but the stereo effect was broken when Christian called him Hardy, and Jeff called him by his first name. A number of the men snickered around them.

"Yeah, well, if she's mine," and at that, Matt paled and swallowed thickly, "that's probably the only action I'll get for awhile."

Jeff looked down at the infant critically, before nodding. "I could see it. She kinda has the same nose as you, that ski-jump thing at the tip, you know? And the hair matches. You both have that impossible to manage curly hair."

"You know, if this wrestling thing doesn't work out for you, I'm sure Vince can find you a place in the wardrobe and hair and makeup department," Christian offered innocently, as Jeff smirked and flipped him off.

"I wouldn't be talkin' like that, buddy. She's got your eyes," Jeff continued, peering down at the infant. She met his eyes and blinked before looking away, a crow of happiness and a belly laugh erupting from her when she caught sight of Randy Orton stretching on the floor. "Kinda sounds like your laugh, too."

Christian smirked. "Ha ha, dork. Laughs aren't genetic." He paused and the smirk died off his face, his head cocked to the side as he thought about what he had said. "Or are they?"

Jeff smiled when Ella grabbed hold of one of his fingers, trying to tug it closer to her. He moved it for her, as she plopped it in her mouth and started to suckle on it. "I'm still having trouble believin' that this is gonna be me in a few months, with my own baby. It's kind of mind blowing."

The blond man snorted as he leaned back in his chair, Ella's eyes going to him at the sound. He met her serious gaze head on, unable to stop from smiling when she gave him a bright grin, her one tooth showing. "You're not going to think it's so mind-blowing when you have to deal with a crying baby that won't sleep through the night, and needs its diaper changed every five minutes. You know those few days off at home that you like to sleep away? Fat chance, man."

A new voice broke in. "Don't listen to him, Jeff. There's just as much good as bad." Chris Jericho nodded to the gurgling baby. "May I?" Jeff handed Ella over, watching as Chris lifted the girl above his head, pressing his nose to hers. "No spitting up on Unckie Chris this time, right, baby?"

She laughed and flailed her arms, as if she were trying to fly while he held her suspended. With a grin, he turned her around and sat her on his arm, her back against his chest so that she could look around. "If she's gonna blow, don't point her towards me," Christian protested, holding his hands up.

Jericho shook his head. "You know, if it turns out that Ella is your kid, I think she'd be better off staying with Shane McMahon. Speaking of, did you all hear the news?" At the three identical shakes of the head, he sighed. "In three weeks, if nobody steps up, they're going to offer paternity tests."

Matt groaned. "Offer?" he questioned. "More like force us into it. You know they're going to find something in our contracts that lets them do this. Or threaten us in some way."

With a raised eyebrow, Jericho nodded once. "Yeah. They won't be able to overtly threaten anyone's job, but there'll be whispers. I don't know, I think it's a good idea."

"Because you're not going to be a father for the third time," Christian protested, running a hand through his spiked hair. "But someone like me...dude, I just got back. You think that if WWE drops me like a hot potato because I won't take a paternity test, TNA is gonna welcome me back with open arms? This sucks, man. This really fucking sucks."

Once again, Jericho found himself being the voice of reason within his group of friends. "The funny thing is, everyone is worried about themselves. How their girlfriend or wife is going to take it, or what's going to happen to them. Have any of you thought about Ella, other than the fact that you might be her daddy? Have you guys even used her name?"

Making a face like a chastised little boy, Christian looked down at his lap. "I called her _kidlet_, if that counts."

"No, it doesn't count, you jackass. Her name is Ella. And yeah, she doesn't do much right now beside eat and shit and laugh and sleep, but she's a person. She's going to grow up and become a toddler, and then a kid, and then...God forbid, a teenager. Matt, say you take the paternity test and it says that you're the father. Are you going to take care of her? Is she going to grow up, knowing that her father didn't want her? How do you think she's going to feel when she's old enough to understand this. Her mom abandoned her, gave her up, and now everyone is trying to shift daddy duty to someone else. Why the hell can't one of you guys just step up and admit it? Or if you don't know, _ask_ to take the damned paternity test before they force you."

As Jericho had spoken, his voice had gotten louder and sterner. Most conversations had stopped in the locker room, and eyes had turned towards the man holding the infant, becoming more and more red in the face as he became angrier. Matt dropped his eyes down as well, but if he had been looking up, he would have seen a number of the guys looking chastised, rather they were on the short list for Father of the Year or not.

Someone cleared their throat across the room, eyes swinging towards Randy Orton. "I hope you guys were listening, because Jericho has a good point. When is someone going to think of Ella, aside from the McMahon family?"

"All they're trying to do is cover it up," someone protested.

"Yeah, from a business standpoint, they're trying to hide it. But they're also trying to help. Shane and Stephanie have lives of their own, families of their own, but they're taking care of Ella. The family is offering to pay for the tests out of their own pocket in order to find the father. Not the company, the family," Jericho shot back.

Orton nodded. "You guys don't get it, do you? Maybe Jericho and I do, because we're parents. But you don't realize what you might be getting. You don't know what it's like to be there and see them grow up and change and become their own person. You all are only concerned about how this is going to change the way you do things. You won't be able to go out at night without finding a sitter, and you won't be able to bring women back with you because you're going to have an infant at home. It's fucking selfish, and none of you see that."

"I think what Randy's trying to say is that you're looking at this like it's a curse," Jericho said more softly, directing his attention towards the two possible fathers he was standing near, but his words were for everyone in the locker room. "It's a blessing to have a child - "

"Especially a healthy one like her," Orton added heatedly, standing up from the floor.

Chris Jericho continued like he had never been cut off. "It's a blessing. Whoever the father is has already missed out on some enormous milestones in her life. Being there when she was born, giving her that first bath at home, feeding her for the first time, hearing her first laugh, seeing her first smile." As if on cue, Ella started to cry, and Chris turned her around in his arms, laying her against his shoulder. "Hearing that first cry, sitting up with her at night and just sitting there. You don't understand and you probably won't until you are a father. But those are some of the most beautiful moments you could ever imagine, some of the best days of your life. And right now, you're letting someone else experience those."

John Cena sighed from where he was sitting, playing with the baseball cap in his hands. "That's all nice, and it's a real pretty and flowery speech that you're givin', man, but we didn't sign up for this. You were tryin' for a kid when you got one, and you tried for the second, too."

"I didn't," Orton said as Jericho continued to rock the infant, shushing her quietly. "I didn't plan on having a kid, or being a dad before I was married. Doesn't change the fact that Melly is the most important thing in my life, or that I would do anything for her. It's not always fun being a parent, trust me on that one. I probably know that better than Jericho does. Sometimes, it feels like a chore, but nothing will ever replace that feeling when my little girl looked at me and called me daddy for the first time, or every night, when she tells me that she loves me. Nothing. And I'm hoping to hell that you guys, all of you, not just Ella's dad, learn that."

Jericho watched over his shoulder as Orton stormed out of the room, slapping the door open with his palm and stomping down the hallway. For the first time in a long time, absolutely no one spoke. The men who knew there was a possibility of them being the father of Ella were looking shamed, and the men who were already parents were nodding along with what Jericho and Orton had been saying. And of course, there were those few guys that had absolutely nothing to do with the situation and were hoping to hell that a fist fight was going to break out, if only so that they could place a few bets and get a few laughs.

For a moment, Chris stretched out the silence, nuzzling the crying infant, before he raised his head and looked around. "I don't care what any of you guys think of me, or what you'll say about me when I leave this room. But take my advice: go up to Vince or Shane, or call Stephanie or Linda back at the office. Arrange to have the test taken, all of you that could be the dad. The results are going to take awhile to get back, and the longer it takes, the more you're going to miss out on with Ella. Or do you really want her looking at someone else, like Shane McMahon, and calling him dada, rather than you?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he followed Randy Orton out of the room to go collect the diaper bag that Christian had failed to get, and leaving a stunned locker room in his wake.

* * *

Neither Chris Jericho nor Randy Orton were invited to the next emergency meeting of sorts that was held in Cena's hotel room, but the gossip came down the grapevine that the prospective fathers were deep in discussion about what to do. Orton had snorted and agreed with Jericho that they were being ridiculous, saying that it wasn't like the locker room was "the three fuckin' musketeers, with their all for one and one for all bullshit," but at least it was a step in the right direction.

The locker room had become divided, when just the week before, it had been united. Usually, the arguments were between the top guys and the mid- and low-carders, or between the veterans and the new guys. This time, it was the fathers versus everyone else. The guys like Orton and Jericho were joined by other dads, like Undertaker, Batista, and Shawn Michaels, all of whom would glare at the guys who would look like they had seen their own ghosts whenever Ella came into the locker room. A few times, the invisible battle lines had been crossed for things besides the shows, but the most part, it looked like a junior high dance with the two groups staying on opposite sides of the room and not wanting to meet up in the middle.

Ella and Shane were pretty much the only people not affected by the locker room showdown. She still cooed and babbled and giggled at whoever she chose, and she still smiled her one-toothed smile at whoever happened to be holding her at the moment. Shane was becoming more and more enamoured with her, only staying away from her when he had to show up on camera, when he handed her off to her newest handler, Shawn Michaels. As soon as he came back behind the curtain, unless he had to shower after getting physical, Ella was right back in his arms and being carted around the arena.

Renée had packed a bag specifically for Ella before Shane took her back on the road, consisting of all the new clothes and toy and accessories she had bought. Shane had discovered the children's books, some hardcover with slick pages and bright colors, and some cloth and soft meant for toddlers. That had started a new night time routine of Shane sitting up with her before he'd put her to bed in the crib, or more often, drape her over his chest to sleep with him, reading patiently to her while she gurgled and slapped her hands against the pages.

Nights became his favourite time with her. She tended to fall asleep late at night, after the shows, and would wake up late in the morning, usually blinking at him sleepily when he changed her in the morning and then going back to sleep immediately. But nights were the only time that no one else wanted time with her, when he could have her all to himself. Because of those nights she spent laying on him or cuddled in his arms, she became more and more attached to him, becoming less animated and agitated when they were apart. When anyone else would take her, more often than not, he'd end up getting a call on his cell phone, the sounds of a crying infant in the background as he had to come back to calm her down.

The idea that it wasn't a healthy thing didn't matter to him. Ella was becoming Shane's whole world, and he cheerfully ignored the fact that one day, when the real father would be found, she would be with someone else. Outside of work, his conversations had to do with nothing but Ella and the latest little things that he could marvel over. She began to pull herself into a sitting position, though more often than not, she'd end up flopping back down. He solved that problem by propping a stuffed bear that had been a present from Orton into the corner of the hotel cribs for her to lean against, and then calling his wife to gush over the fact that she had sat up on her own for five minutes. He explained to everyone who would listen about how she began to try and grab at the spoon when he fed her, and had laughed when she had mashed her nose into the food.

And there was one thing that he hadn't told anyone but his sister, not even his wife. He had slipped a few times, twice at night and once in the morning when he was reaching for her, saying "Come with daddy," or "Come to Papa," without thinking. Even Stephanie had been surprised and cautioned him to watch himself.

"She's still too young to really talk, but if you keep it up, and she starts identifying you as Daddy..." Stephanie trailed off and sighed on the phone. "I'm sorry, Shane. If I would've known that you were getting this attached, I probably never would have suggested that you take her." Because she had expected him to get attached to Ella, just not as strongly as he had.

"I know," he said softly, and even he had to admit that he sounded hurt. "I'm just...it's hard not to, you know?"

"I know. It's hard for me not to play Mommy with her when I see her." She cleared her throat. "Since I'm coming back on the road next week, are you going to be staying or are you going to go back home to Renée?"

He looked down at the sleeping infant on his chest and brushed his fingers through her curly black hair, finally dry after her bath. "I'm going to be doing Raw and Smackdown, but I'm skipping the house shows. I'm coming home tomorrow, should be there by late afternoon."

"Are you going to share Ella with the rest of us?"

"Only if you ask nicely," he teased.

They chatted for a few more minutes, Shane getting caught up in the latest scrape that Ken had gotten himself into, sharing some of the news of backstage events, and then hung up, lifting the little girl off of him and getting up with a groan. After what his sister had said, he figured that it would be better if Ella slept in the crib that night.

Ella opened her eyes and yawned, looking up at him as he lowered her into the crib. "Come on, sweetie. Daddy needs his sleep."

Shit, he swore to himself, he caught himself doing it again.


End file.
